


Leave The Past, Find Nowhere

by HellsBellsSinClub



Series: All this black and cruel is fair, this is an emergency [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days, Robin (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Wayne Has Issues and acknowledges that he messed up, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Cassandra Cain is Batgirl, Damian Wayne is a good little murder child who is learning to be a little brother, Dealing With Trauma, Description of Injuries, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Gen, Heavy Angst, I am making my own canon up as I go along, Injury Recovery, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd has a potty mouth, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Mental Health Issues, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Past Child Abuse, Past Mind Control, Past Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne, Past Torture, Reconciliation, Stephanie Brown is Spoiler, Suicidal Thoughts, Talia al Ghul is a good mother, Tim Drake is Robin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-06-12 20:09:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15347733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellsBellsSinClub/pseuds/HellsBellsSinClub
Summary: *Follows straight from the end of Can You See Me Now*Recovering from Mind Control is never easy. For heroes or for anyone else.Hours after mostly breaking the conditioning Ra's had installed in him, Jason finds himself in a locked room in the Watchtower. There is only one way in or out of the room and there is nothing to do but await for someone to announce his fate.Jason finds out the hard way that the implication of mind control are more far reaching than just simply doing something against your will. Recovery is slow and other people can either help or hinder you, if you allow them. Misunderstandings and Miscommunications are addressed and the reasons for actions and events are revealed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am back. I am sorry for the wait, things have been a little bit hectic lately.
> 
> This follows straight from the end of Can You See Me Now. This fic, for most part, will be in Jason's POV. There may be a chapter or two following someone else for plot reasons but for now it is all about Jason.
> 
> I am throwing canon out of the window btw and I am making my own up as I go along. Happy reading!

When Jason had been a small child- about four or five- Catherine Todd, the woman who had been his mother for most of his life, used to say to him that the bruises that were littered across his skin were like iris flowers blooming in a field in spring. The purple and yellow used to spread across his face and his body after a beating from his father, Willis. Or from one of Catherine’s dealers. Some days they would blossom on his knuckles after he got into a fight with someone in the streets or in the school yard when he was still in school. Other days his body was a resting place for a field of painfully blue and purple flowers.

When he was younger and still clutching onto whatever innocence he had left, Jason had tried desperately to hold onto that imagery. That he was the garden bed for the flowers that bruised his skin. That each and every burst blood vessel was just a new flower growing on his body. But he learnt quickly that the bruises weren’t the pretty flowers he saw in the garden books at school. That he wasn’t a beautiful field for his flowers to grow.

He was just a small boy, being bruised and hurt by the man who was his father and by anyone who was bigger and stronger than him.

It always came back to that, didn’t it?

No matter how far in life or death he goes, Jason Todd will forever be beaten down by a father who was bigger and stronger than he was, but whom he still loved despite everything.

Willis Todd. Bruce Wayne. In the end they were both the same. They were both men that Jason had looked up too and they were both men who had beaten and harmed Jason when he was most vulnerable. 

Jason was covered in bruises now. Some of them were caused by Ra’s men when the Demon’s Head had come to his safehouse. Jason was still very fuzzy about what Ra’s had actually spoken to him and what had happened, despite what he had told Tim before…

Before.

The other bruises were mostly caused by Bruce. Bruce Wayne was 210 pounds of pure muscle and had over thirty years of fighting experience under his belt. The Bat suit was lined with tough body armour that cannot be easily pierced and made for being hit by a fist or flying kick all the more painful. Being hit multiple times by that man was honestly worst than the crowbar the Joker had beaten him with. And that is not just because of the fact that the Joker is a weak ass bitch.

He trusted Bruce, no matter what he had said and done. Jason had held onto the deep, childish trust that he had before the Joker murdered him that Bruce would never knowingly lay a hand on him to do him harm.

Bruce had broken that trust, knowingly or not. He had broken it and Jason was feeling adrift as to what to feel or think now. He had come back to life, how no one knows but he was alive when he had been dead and buried six feet under.

But he had not come back right. Jason knew this. His wounds had not been healed by whatever power had placed his soul back into his body. While he was not decomposed like he should have been, having been underground and dead for six months, nothing had been right about his body.

Aside from the wounds that the Joker had caused during his whole ‘Let’s Torture Robin For Reasons That Only Make Sense To Me; The Fucked Up Clown Man’ thing, someone had clearly done an autopsy on him. And his body had been filled with whatever they place in corpses so that they don’t rot before the funeral.

He only had vague memories of the weeks he spent in that hospital before Talia’s men had found him but he did remember being ill and not knowing why. The constant vomiting and pain from his stomach had been agonising and he remembered pulling at the stitches on his chest where the autopsy scar had been.

If there was one thing he was forever going to be grateful to the al Ghul’s was that they threw him into that damned Pit of theirs. The wounds, the aches and the pains that riddled his body had gone the moment he had been placed within that poison green water.

Sure, it had been a couple weeks of psychosis where he had not known where he was or what was happening, but once that was done and he could think again, the fact that his body was clear of all the wounds caused by the Joker and from after his death had been a blessing that he had not known he needed.

Jason would gladly die again if it meant that he could go within the Pit’s waters once more. He would take the Madness, take whatever pain and mental breakdown that came with it if it meant that he could erase the last two weeks. He wanted to wash away the last twenty-four hours and pretend that it had not happened and that the bruises on his knuckles had not been placed there when Jason had beaten Timothy Drake to a pulp.

He would do anything, anything at all, if the evidence of what he had done to the boy who was his replacement, who was his friend, could be destroyed and that this whole thing turned out to be a horrible nightmare and that he was going to wake up in his safehouse and everything was the way it was two weeks ago before this all went to hell and back.

But that was not going to happen.

The bruises on his body were here to stay. His knuckles were an ugly field of disgusting purple, blue and yellow flowers that ached whenever his hand twitched. There was blood and graveyard dirt under his broken nails and his ribs were cracked and broken under the skin of his chest. The self-inflicted scratches on his arms were beginning to scab and pulled painfully every time he moved.

Jason has not felt this broken in years, not since the first time someone had beaten him and taken his small squat he had found in an alleyway during his first winter. When he had lost his squat in that winter he had almost died from the cold. He could not remember now how he had survived, only that he had.

Jason did not know how he was going to survive this.

It was one thing to be locked away in the Batcave with Bruce playing watch guard over him and trying to either guilt Jason for all the crimes he had committed or try and play the good, caring father before the older man gives up and sends him to Arkham where he would spend who knows how long in a cell next to his murderer before Jason finds a way out of that place.

It was another thing altogether to be stuck here in the Watchtower up in space in a room with only one way in or out.

It would not be easy to escape. It would be damn near impossible, actually. Nearly every member of the Justice League was out and about outside the room he was in. Not to mention the Titans and other superheros who had come from all over to show emotional support for Dickie and Bruce.

Jason did not know if Tim was still alive. He had been, when Jason pulled him the rest of the way out of the grave, his mind fighting hopeless against whatever the hell Ra’s had done to him. The younger teen had looked so small and broken in his arms and Jason wondered if that was how he himself had looked when Bruce had pulled him out of the rubble of that building.

Jason had broken his Baby Bird. He had crushed the small boy’s wings and crippled his body. Tim may have been breathing when Jason had pulled him out but he had not stayed awake for long after.

Who knows if he will wake up again?

Even if Tim survived all that Jason had done to him, there was no certainty that there would not be horrible repercussions on the younger teens body. Timmy’s arm was shattered, the bone had been sticking out of the skin when Jason had managed to pull the small boy out of the grave. He knew he had hit the younger teen several times in the head and from experience he knew that head trauma can have lasting effects.

The exact memories of what happened after they had spoken on the couch in the cabin were few and far between. He knows that there were parts where he was conscious and had tried to stop what was happening and had tried to help Tim but he also knows that he had not been able to fight the conditioning or whatever the hell Ra’s had done to him and that he had not held back when he had beaten Tim.

Well, at least, he had not been able to fully fight whatever the hell Ra’s had done to him. Jason had managed to sort of shake off the nagging voice in his head telling him that he needed to obey the Demon’s Head orders enough for him to start trying to dig out Tim from the grave that he had placed the younger teen in, but that did not happen for hours after he had first triggered the conditioning thing that Ra’s installed in him.

He did not know how he should feel about all of this anymore.

One on hand he wanted to rage and scream. Jason had hurt his friend, he had brutally beaten a young teenaged boy and Jason was not a stupid man; he knows how big and strong he is compared to Tim. He would not even have to use a quarter of his strength to take down the smaller teen and he knew, instinctively he knew, that he had used his full strength and had not held back at all when he hurt Tim.

On the other hand, all he could currently feel was a hallow, sinking feeling in his broken chest cavity that made him want to break down sobbing at what he had done and what was done to him. Ra’s had violated his mind and had forced him to hurt his friend for god only knows what fucked up reason that the ancient assassin had. He had been mind controlled. Conditioned or whatever the fuck it actually was. Jason had not wanted to do what he had done. He had not had any control of his own body and that knowledge alone made him want to vomit.

Being mind controlled was honestly a common thing in the superhero community. Jason remembered several times when Superman, Martian Manhunter and other big named heroes who had been under the control of someone attacking they cared about because ‘Reasons’. He remembered being Robin and helping with the clean up of the damage the controlled hero had done. It was the fucking norm.

Someone gets mind controlled. They fight their friends and do property damage and whatever else until someone breaks the control and then the bad guys either get away or are taken into custody. Rinse and fucking repeat over and over again.

Jason knew that there were mental health professionals for heroes who need help after they have been mind controlled or whatever but Jason didn’t think they were going to let him talk to one. Jason is probably going to be sent off to the wonderful care of the Arkham staff.

Maybe he could get Harley to be his doctor, see how that goes. The Joker’s ex-girl would probably be better for him in the long run compared to the shit staff at Arkham.

But this was different to the normal ‘mind control X person for Reasons’. This wasn’t The Light or Lex Luther seeking to cause destruction or make the public hate superheroes. Jason honestly did not know what Ra’s was planning to do and that fucking terrified him. Because there was always a reason as to why the ‘villains’ try and control heroes. And yes, Jason knew full well that he was not a hero anymore, he knew that there had to be a reason for why Ra’s al fucking Ghul decided to force Jason to attack Tim.

What that reason was, Jason was honestly not sure if he wanted to know. He could vaguely remember saying honestly creepy and strange lines to Tim, between the beatings and burying the younger teen in a fucking grave. Something about ‘the Master will save them and that Tim will see who Jason really is at the end of everything’? Jason honestly did not know what the hell any of that meant and since he did not have a proper recollection of what he said and had done to Tim, Jason felt he could possibly be missing something important.

Or at least it would be important if he was planning to figure out what had happened and why Ra’s had targeted them in the first place. Right now, he was stuck in this room on the Watchtower with no way to escape.

And honestly, Jason was not sure if he wanted to escape from here.

He was tired. Exhausted really. It was not just because he had been pushing his body to the limits these last couple of weeks as he tried to hide away from Bruce and the GCPD, nor was it also because of what he had done to Tim. This was an older feeling. One that he has carried with him for years.

Jason died. He had died and had gone to whatever afterlife there was. He could not remember what there had been when he had been dead and gone. He could not honestly tell anyone if there was a heaven or hell or whatever religious bullshit that people say to make them feel less afraid about dying. But there had been a sense of peace and warmth, he could remember that much. Since that moment when he had woken up in his grave, confused, scared and alone; Jason has felt like nothing in this world was right. That he was a mistake and that there would never be peace for him again.

Bruce and all the other heroes will look into why Jason had attacked Tim. They will make all the accusations and bullshit excuses and eventually Jason will be sent away to Arkham Asylum to rot away until he eventually escapes and then it will start a cat and mouse game that will go on and on until he dies.

It would be easier if he just spaced himself here and now.

He did not want to go through all this. He did not want to know if he had really killed his friend. He did not want to know if Timmy had survived but was now going to be forced to live a life of pain because of what Jason had done. He did not want to see Bruce’s disappointed and angry face staring down at him as he spits anger in Jason’s face. He did not want Dickie’s cold rage or Spoiler and Batgirls heartbreak and spite.

Jason just wanted to go back to that peaceful feeling that he had when he was dead.

But they would not ever let that happen to him. They won’t let him have peace. He is a monster. A blight against the world and they will keep him locked away, always watching him and judging him and never letting him leave their little cages.

He was going to be trapped until he died once more.

Jason picked at his broken and bloody nails. He knew that some of the blood under them was his own, from the deep gouges on his arms that he had done on himself to try and break the hold of the conditioning stung as he moved. The rest of the blood belonged to Tim.

Everything stung as he moved. His whole body was one big bruise and bloodied mess. He was honestly surprised that no one had sent one of the medically trained superheroes in to patch him up. Hell, Jason was surprised he didn’t wake up, after being knocked out in that graveyard, with bandages and the such. It may have been a few years since he had been Robin but Jason clearly remembered the JL would always patch up their bad guys before handing them over to whoever.

It used to annoy the fuck out of him, knowing and watching these trash bag criminals, all who had murdered and done horrible things get the medical treatment that their victims never did.

Isn’t it ironic that all his bitching and moaning about criminals being treated better than their victims would be used against him now? If his ribs didn’t hurt as much as they did Jason would have been howling with laughter.

Or maybe not. Laughing loudly was something that Jason could only stand when he was in a decent mind place. The way he was now? Yeah, it would probably be best if he kept his laughter to a low chuckle instead.

This was just all fucked up. All of it. Him, this situation, everything.

He pulled and scraped at the dried flakes of blood stuck to his fingers and nails. Not all of it will come off, Jason would need to have soap and water to get the rest of the graveyard dirt and blood off of him. But for now, the picking and scraping distracted him from the fact that he had been in this room for hours and has not seen anyone since he had first been led into this room by Black Canary after he had woken up in the back of one of the many jets the Justice League seemed to have.

Maybe this was some form of psychological torture? Keep him locked away with no contact with the outside world and keep him from knowing what was happening with himself and Tim to throw him off his guard. Add in the lack of medical treatment and yeah, you got yourself one hell of a psychological trip.

Nah. That isn’t something the Justice League would do. Bruce on the other hand.

Yeah, that is definitely something Batman would do. B is always about getting his enemies to break first and tell everything. Fear and pain. That was how Bruce worked.

He remembered the first time he watched Bruce intimidated someone. It had sent him into a panic attack. Seeing the tall, big man stand over a cowering criminal had been too much at the time. It had reminded him of all the time someone bigger and stronger had stood over him after he had been beaten down.

When he was Robin he had been able to pull himself away from that mind frame eventually when he realised that Bruce would never do anything like that to him and that he could always pull away and wait for Bruce somewhere else.

Jason was not Robin any more. He can’t pull himself away from that mind frame because he is no longer Robin. He is no longer the small little boy who willingly followed Batman into the streets of Gotham. He knows that Bruce can and will do whatever he could to intimidate and threaten Jason to get what he wants.

And Jason honestly had no clue as to what Bruce could want. Hell, Jason honestly did not know what was going on and-

Jason’s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed as the locked door suddenly slid open, the sound loud and almost deafening in the small room.

Roy Harper, formerly Speedy, currently Arsenal, stood in the doorway, looking awkward and weighed down by the two bags in his hands. Wearing basic jeans, a band shirt and a red cap on his head, he looked entirely too relaxed for interrogating a known criminal and murderer.

If there was ever a chance to escape, now would be it.

But Jason did not make a run for it. He did not jump over the table and knock down the older man. He did not try to escape.

There would be no point. Harper would not be alone. There would be someone out there as well, just waiting to knock Jason down on his ass. And the cameras in the Watchtower will spot Jason wherever he ran, if Superman or whoever else doesn’t find him first.

If or when Jason escapes, he would have to plan everything out properly. He would need to have everything down to a T before he could even try and get out of this place. Acting rashly would only get him locked up even more than before and get his ass kicked.

So, he does and says nothing as Roy Harper walks into the room and sits himself down on the other chair across from Jason. Harper just dumps the bags on the ground carelessly by his feet and says nothing, looking directly at Jason.

Out of all of Dick’s friends, Roy Harper had been someone Jason had truly enjoyed being around. He was interesting to hang with and never made him feel like he was just Dick’s kid brother who was hanging around them. Harper had been more than willing to listen to Jason ramble about books and school and had always been willing to listen to what Jason had to say about cases Jason was helping the Titan’s with.

Roy Harper was a good man and someone Jason had admired a lot when he had been Robin. They were both kids from lower society who were taken in by rich men who did not know how to deal with their trauma. He had been able to relate to Harper in a way that he could not really do so with Dick because of their shared background.

Jason was confused as to why he was here and what was in the bags. Was Harper breaking him out? No, he wouldn’t be. Last he heard, Harper had a kid and the older man would not risk putting the kid in danger just to help Jason break out. Hell, they weren’t even friends if Jason was to be honest with himself. Jason had just been Dick’s kid brother who had looked up to and liked being around Harper when they hung out at the Titan Tower. Harper would not bother to break out someone who wasn’t his friend. There would be too much risk involved to do that.

So, what was he here for?

“Well, you look like shit.” Harper stated, pulling a face at Jason and gesturing to Jason’s broken and bruised body.

Jason said nothing to that. It was the truth and honestly? He was kind of happy that Harper had not started the conversation off with a ‘how are you feeling’ type of bullshit.

“Since you aren’t talking and possibly have damaged your voice box and the such, I am going to talk instead. If you are okay with that please nod. If you aren’t please shake your head and don’t punch me in the face.” Harper said, pulling up one of the bags from under the table.

Jason neither nodded nor shook his head. He also did not bother to punch Harper in the face. It would probably end up hurting him more than it would Harper. He didn’t think he broke any of his knuckles but they hurt like mad and he would rather not hit anything or anyone for a while if he could.

Harper pulled out several unlabelled water bottles, a small bowl, a packet of high calorie snack bars and a vigilante grade medical kit from the bag and placed them all on the table before Jason. Harper carelessly threw the now empty bag back onto the ground and spoke once more.

“Right so, sorry about not having anyone deal with your wounds and the such. Ra’s al Ghul is a dick and it has been all hands-on deck dealing with his chemical bombs. We legit just finished that up and have sent the younger heroes out for clean-up with the rest of the Justice League.” Jason blinked slowly at Harper’s words. So, Ra’s had more than just whatever the fuck happened with Jason and Tim planned. Were the chemical bombs supposed to be a distraction? Something that would have drawn everyone’s attention and efforts away from finding Tim?

Jason honestly would not put it passed Ra’s to do something like that. Have the bombs used so that the Justice League and Titans were all busy and wouldn’t hear Tim’s pleas nor have time to offer Bruce any help on finding his lost little bird.

Crafty and calculated. If they had not found Jason and Tim when they did, he was sure that the assassins at the graveyard would have taken them both to Ra’s and who knows what would have happened then.

The wounds that Jason had inflicted on Tim would have needed immediate medical attention. While he did know that Ra’s probably had enough resources to have his own hospital hidden away from even Bruce’s all-seeing eyes, Jason knew that Ra’s was planning something else for them. The Pit.

He had the vaguest recollection in the back of his mind about mentioning the Pit to Tim when he had been about to or possibly had already buried Tim in that coffin. Throwing Tim into the pit would take away the wounds that Jason had inflicted. But then what would happen? What was Ra’s actually planning. Was there an end goal?

The Demon’s Head was becoming more and more erratic in the last decade, according to Talia. The Lazarus Pit was not meant for long term use and the eight hundred plus years of constant use was beginning to show. Was this whole get Jason to attack Tim and then possibly throw Tim into the Pit just some half-baked plan that Ra’s created because of the deterioration of his mind? Or was there actually something else going on?

Either way, the results are still the same. Jason was locked away in the Watchtower and Tim was who knows where in what condition. Was he alive? Jason dreaded the answer.

“Oh! And Tim is alive! He will be fine, eventually. Right now, he is undergoing this weird magic slash alien tech healing pod thingy that was gifted to John and Hal by some alien princess after they saved her and her team from this weird space worm.” Harper waved his hand and shrugged. “He should be completely or as completely healed as he can be, within the next day or so. According to Hal, Drake is going to need rest up for like a month or so and have some physio therapy but he is going to be okay.”

Oh.

So, Tim was alive. Tim was going to heal and be okay. He was okay.

Jason let out a low shaky breath at what Harper said. Tim was going to be fine. Whatever this alien pod was, it was going to fix Tim up and he was going to live.

His hands shook and his breaths became short and shuddery. Tim was going to be okay. He was going to live and he was going to heal and he was not dead. He was not dead. Jason had not killed his friend. He had not killed his friend.

Was this relief overwhelming him? Or was this guilt? Everything felt too much but not enough because Tim was alive and he was going to get better and Jason had not killed him.

He has killed a lot of people over these last couple of years but if he had killed Tim, Jason was not sure as to what he would have done. To himself or anyone else.

Jason had not realised his eyes were filling with tears until Harper leant over the table and touched his bruised shoulder, sending small sparks of pain through his body and drawing him out of his mind and his darkening thoughts.

“It is okay to cry, Jason. Both you and Tim are going to be alright. Ra’s and his stupid plans can’t get you here. The Justice League and all of us are going to help you both.” The older man pulled his hand away and gestured to the first aid kit and water. “I am going to clean you up and patch up those wounds of yours. After that I’ll go through what is going to happen now, okay?”

Jason could only give a small nod. Tim was alive. He was going to be fine. That was honestly all that mattered anymore.

He did not care what happens to him next. Lock him away in Arkham, throw away the key, Jason did not care. All that mattered was that Tim was alive and that Jason had not killed his friend.

He blinked back the tears that stung at his eyes. He knew that it was okay to cry, that he probably should cry seeing as it was a healthy way to release emotion and that bottling things up was bad for his health in general but Jason did not want to cloud his vision. Not now. Not while he was technically in enemy territory.

He may not care what happens to him next but Jason was never going to shake off years of training from his teachers and hard learned lessons beaten into him as a child. Crying will cloud his vision and make it harder to keep track of Harper and make it difficult to control his emotions. He needed to control himself until he is alone and safe.

When he is alone and there is not anyone there in person to watch him, Jason will allow himself to break down and cry. But for now, he will get himself under control. Slow, controlled breathing to calm his fluttering heart. Blinking away the tears that wanted to fall. Stilling his hands as best he could.

Harper looked at him with a sad expression on his face and shook his head with a sigh. “I am going to start by cleaning up your hands and arms. It’s going to hurt a bit, since I am going to mix the water with that hospital grade disinfectant that is like acidly strong. And I will bandage them up too. Once I have done that I will tape up your ribs because man they are sticking out oddly and look like they hurt.” Harper explained.

Jason nodded again and focused on his breathing. He mentally steeled himself for the pain and made no noise when Harper got to work. It was painful. The disinfectant was honestly like acid being poured onto his skin, even with the water diluting it down a bit, but it would kill any infection that could have set in the last few hours he had been alone in this room. Setting his ribs honestly hurt more than having them broken. Even though Harper was careful and apologetic, it still hurt like a bitch.

Harper chatted quietly as he worked, talking about stupid things like the Knights game from the other week and how he was thinking about getting a cat or dog for his daughter, Lian. Jason did not mind listening to him talk. It was just mindless noise and it did the job of distracting him a bit from the pain.

Once he was finished, Harper pushed the snack bars and unopened water bottles to Jason. It took a lot of control not to snatch them both off the table. The meal that Tim had given him the night before was the last thing he had eaten and honestly, in the last two weeks Jason had not eaten that much at all.

He was used to not eating. He had learned to ration food at a young age and he knew how to deal with hunger. But the constant running and fighting and what had happened to both himself and Tim has left Jason feeling hallowed and drained. Food will help. So will rest.

Jason doubted he would get much rest here but there was food in front of him and he wasn’t going to say no to it.

He made a show of slowly and carefully grabbing the snack bar from the table, not wanting to seem like he was going to attack Harper to whoever was no doubt watching them. The snack bar tasted like crap. The pre-packaged ones always did.

Alfred used to make good ones. They used to have little choc chips and berries in them. Whenever he had felt hungry or peckish after patrolling as Robin, Alfred would be there with his homemade snack bars and a hot chocolate ready for him.

What would Alfred say to him now if he saw him? Would he be happy that Jason was alive? Or has the multiple crimes Jason has committed forever tainted him? Jason doubted he would have a welcome reception now after what he had done to Tim. Alfred may have been like a grandfather to Jason but he was pretty sure that he stopped being Alfred’s grandson the moment he was put into the ground.

He ate slowly, watching as Harper wiped down his own hands with the sanitary wipes. Harper said nothing until Jason had devoured two of the bars and had drunk half of the water, letting Jason have a chance to fill up before he explained Jason’s fate.

“Right,” Harper clapped his hands together and leaned back in his chair. “As of this moment you are under house arrest. And by house, I mean you are stuck up here on the Watchtower and are not allowed to go back to Earth as of yet.”

Jason frowned and twirled the water bottle in his hand without saying anything. House arrest is a lot different to being actually thrown in jail. It is both good and bad. Good because, well it is more or less better than being locked away, at least in a normal situation. Bad because this is not a normal situation and if he was being sent away to a jail he could at least escape with somewhat less trouble then having to escape from fucking space.

Harper continued to speak. “Martian Manhunter is off planet at the moment but is due back soon. When he gets back he is going to check out your head and see what the damage of what Ra’s has done to you. John Constantine will also be checking you out because Zatanna is on tour right now and can’t leave her show. Constantine will be seeing if Ra’s used magic to fuck with you as well whatever else he did. We will be moving you to the prisoner-guest quarters and you will be given ring that will monitor where you are and what you are doing while on the Watchtower.”

That…

That honestly did not sound so bad.

Jason was not happy at the idea of having someone, anyone, going through his head after what Ra’s had done to him but Martian Manhunter was mostly neutral on most things and would most likely keep what he saw to himself if Jason asked (read: pleaded) him to do so. He had never met John Constantine before but he had heard about the man and while he was known to be an ass, Jason had heard that the Brit was the best in the business and if there was something magical that had been done to Jason, then Constantine would probably be able to fix it.

And perhaps Constantine would be able to find out how and why Jason came back to life. And maybe he could undo it. Or maybe not.

What bothered Jason though was that Harper was implying that Jason would more or less have free reign of the Watchtower as long as he wore a monitor ring? It sounded too good to be true. There had to be a catch to this. There was no way the Justice League and Bruce would allow him free reign of anywhere.

He was a murder and a criminal. He may have attacked Tim because he was forced to by whatever Ra’s had done to him but that still does not take away the fact that Jason is the Red Hood. No one is going to be happy that he would be able to walk about on his own with only a ring to stop him.

A ring that Jason is pretty sure he could eventually hack or destroy. If he is given free reign like he believes he is, then Jason would easily have the chance to disable the tracking on the ring and eventually leave back to Earth and escape.

Unless the ring is magic. Then he is going to have a harder time getting away.

“I know what you are thinking.” Harper waved his hand and grinned. “You used to be a Bat. You can hack pretty much anything and with that League of Assassin training you could easily get your way out of this. Well, unfortunately for you, we thought of that as well and the ring is space magic, the kind that the Lanterns occasionally use when they need to keep someone in one place for a while without locking them up. You can’t hack it or destroy it.”

Well fuck. There goes that plan.

Harper reached down and grabbed the second bag from under the table. “Since you don’t have any clothes I took the liberty of getting you some. And some shoes and underwear and stuff. There is a shower in your room and it has toiletries and the such and you will have access to the cafeteria whenever you feel hungry.” Jason looked at the bag, there was a few shirts at the top and the bag itself was quite full. He guessed there must have been at least a week’s worth of clothing in there including underwear. Seeing as he was only wearing the jeans from the other day and no shoes or shirt, the clothes were a welcome change.

Why were they doing this though? Why was he being treated so nicely? What was the catch?

He is not the first sidekick to fall away from the good side. He probably won’t be the last. He didn’t think any of them ever got this treatment.

Or maybe they did? Maybe this was just the various heroes projecting their guilt?

Jason didn’t fucking know.

“Why?” his voice hurt when he spoke just that one word. He has definitely strained his voice box with his screaming. He coughed slightly at the sting. “Why the fuck are you all bothering with this shit? I am a criminal and you know it. You don’t give this special treatment to anyone else.”

Harper looked awkward and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, yes you are a criminal. And you know, technically a bad guy and all that but at the same time no one knows how much of it was you and how much of it was possibly Ra’s and his mind-fuckery. The Justice League is giving you the benefit of the doubt for now. If it turns out that the only thing Ra’s was responsible for was the attack on Tim then you will be handed over to the GCPD and prosecuted for your crimes like a normal criminal. More or less.”

That floored Jason. He never thought… it never crossed his mind that all of his actions as the Red Hood and when he had come back from the grave could have been caused by Ra’s. He felt and knew that all of his actions were his own. He made them. He decided them. No one else.

But now there was a worm of doubt eating away at his mind. If Ra’s was able to get him to attack Tim, who was his friend and someone he had grown to care about, what else has he made Jason do? What else has he done that was pre-planned by the Demon’s Head? Has any action he has made since coming back from the grave been his own?

Is he even his own person?

The plastic water bottle in Jason’s hand crumbled slightly as he clenched down on it in mute horror. What Harper was implying was nothing short of horrifying and sickening. Jason has done a lot of things in the past several years that he came back to life. A lot of bad and morally deplorable things. He has murdered and tortured and harmed so many people. He may not have enjoyed it like some killers do but he has gotten the sickily sweet satisfaction of knowing that he has rid the world of a scum bag waste of space.

If it is true that Ra’s had been subtly or not subtly controlling him these last three and bit years, Jason was not sure as to what he would do. Or what he could do. If all of his actions were just the commands of a centuries old assassin on a power trip then nothing he had built up for himself since his death would matter.

He had made himself in to the Red Hood. He made himself into someone who could protect his part of the city in a way that Batman and Bruce Wayne never could.

Jason would never deny that Bruce as both Batman and Brucie Wayne has done good work for Gotham City and that things were a lot better with him around. The jobs, the shelters, the medical treatment for those with no money and food drives that Wayne Enterprises funds were a god send to many people who need it. Batman had protected Gotham as well as he could do in the last twenty odd years.

But Bruce is never going to get what it is like to live in such extreme conditions when you are poor or on the streets. He just isn’t going to get it. He doesn’t understand how the crime and poverty cycle works for people who experience it. He is removed from that because he is always going to be a rich white man in America.

Jason, as the Red Hood, has been able to help his small territory. He has been able to help the homeless kids who are too scared of going back to relatives or the system. He has been able to keep the working boys and girls safe from bad pimps and clients. He has taken control of the drug trade and the weapon trade and all other criminal elements and he has put in safe guards to protect the innocent people who could get hurt.

That was all him. It was his planning. His hard work and blood went into doing all of that not Ra’s and his games.

It could not have been Ra’s. Ra’s doesn’t care about people, especially not the little people who he believes are beneath him. Ra’s al Ghul could not have been controlling him and not for as long as he had.

Jason refused to believe it. He refused.

He was his own person. He is Jason Peter Todd and his actions have been his own.

But have they? He already attacked Tim, who is to say that the people he killed were not just orders from Ra’s that he did not even know about? He didn’t… he did not want to think about it. He didn’t want to dwell on it at all.

But the thought was in his head and it was not likely to go away anytime soon.

“Jason.” Harper’s voice was soft and careful, like he was worried he may startle Jason. “MM will be here in the next few hours, alright? He will be able to tell all of us the truth soon enough. For what it is worth, I honestly don’t think that Ra’s has been controlling you for that long. I think this thing with Tim was the limit of his control over you. But whatever happens in a few hours, whether you have been controlled or not, you will be alright.”

He will be alright? Bull fucking shit he will be.

If it turns out he has been controlled this whole time and they get rid of the conditioning or whatever, there is no telling who Jason is going to be when all is said and done. He could be a completely new person and that is terrifying because he likes himself, to a point. This is who he is. He has worked hard to be who he is today. Yes, he has fucked up and yes, he has done horrible things but fuck, it was his life and he has lived it his way.

If it turns out that everything has been in his control and that Ra’s has only made him attack Tim and nothing else then he is going to be thrown in Arkham and left to rot next to the Joker. And then the cycle will of him escaping and being thrown back into a cell will start and only end when he is dead.

He is fucked either way.

Harper seemed to realise that as well because he pulled out an honestly ugly ass ring from his pocket. It did not look like a Lantern ring, those are smaller but no less ugly. This was a thick banded ring with a large grey stone on the top. It would probably take up half of his thumb if he put it on.

“Right.” Harper rubbed the back of his neck once more. “This is the ring you are supposed to wear. You need to put it on yourself, because you know, space magic reasons. Once you put that on we will head to your room. You can shower and take a nap before MM arrives.”

Jason looked down at the ring, frowning at it. He could refuse. He could just wait here in this room until Martian Manhunter comes back here to the Watchtower. He could refuse to play this game that is going to lead to disappointment and guilt with the Justice League realising that he is just another criminal and murderer or him coming to the horrifying realisation that nothing he has done since waking up in his own grave has been his own action but rather the commands of Ra’s al fucking Ghul.

But if he puts on the damned ring he can go and shower. He can wash away the blood and graveyard dirt and put on clean clothes that are not stained nor hold the memories of what he had done. He could brush his teeth and lay down on a bed and let his body rest for a short while.

He will not be able to sleep no, sleep is not something that is going to be in his grasp without him having some kind of drug to knock him out, but to let his body unwind and relax for a short while will help him should he need to fight.

He took the ring and placed it on his left thumb, hissing quietly as it tightened slightly and heated around his skin. It was not overly painful, a mild discomfort than anything. But it will be a reminder that he will not be able to leave the Watchtower on his own accord anytime soon. If ever.

Harper stood and grabbed the bag of Jason’s new clothes and gestured to the door. “Come on, let’s get you to your room. You will feel better, and smell better, after a shower and a nap.”

Jason stood slowly, his body ached and protested at the movement. He shuffled his way to stand beside Harper. Harper placed his hand on the door, triggering something that caused it to open. Jason was curious as to how the door worked, there was no panel for Harper to place his hand on for identification and there was lock mechanism. How did the door know to open? Was there someone on the other side of the door?

Jason followed Harper out of the room. There was no one on the other side or in the corridor around them. Perhaps it was merely a prearranged gesture for whoever was no doubt watching through the cameras.

He followed Harper through the corridors, memorising every route that they were taking. The cold stung his feet and the lights were giving him a headache but they did not meet a single person as they walked to his new ‘room’.

It was surprising. He would have thought that Tim’s Titan’s would have been waiting to throw abuse or something similar at Jason. Hell, he had half been expecting that Bruce would be waiting for him. To glare and be angry at him or to stare at him like a hurt puppy because he never considered the idea that Ra’s may have been controlling Jason, he honestly wasn’t sure but Bruce normally did not allow himself to be not in the picture.

None of the Bats were here. No one but Harper was here to talk to him and honestly? Jason was too tired to have the mental capacity to think if it was because of the Justice League was giving him space or if it was because they were angry for what he had done to Tim.

It took a while but finally they stopped at one of the actual guest rooms the Watchtower has. He remembers this corridor. He remembers staying in the room three doors down when he was Robin after a big fight with the Light. They were actually placing him in a guest room.

Harper opened the door for Jason and gestured for him to enter. He did so slowly, floored that they were actually doing this. The pit of despair that Ra’s could have been controlling him all this time grew slightly bigger at the sight of the large and comfortable room. The Justice League were going out of their way to make him welcome and comfortable with this room. He was going to be able to walk about the Watchtower because he had this stupid ring on. They were giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Why? Why are they doing this?

“The shower is over there.” Harper was saying, placing the bag of clothes down on the large bed. “Until MM get’s back, it would probably be best if you just stay here for now. Everyone should be coming back soon from the clean up and while a few of us know what is going on, not everyone does and no one wants a fight to break out. If you need me, just use the comm station by the door. I will be back when MM is here.”

Jason gave a small nod at what Harper said. The older man waited a few moments, standing awkwardly by the bed before nodding to himself. “Right. I will leave you to it then.” He nodded again and walked rather stiffly out of the room, leaving Jason alone.

Alone with his increasingly alarming thoughts and in a room that Jason did not feel he deserved nor wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens. Questions will be answered and more questions will be raised.

Normally, whenever Jason goes somewhere new or is placed inside a room he does not know, he takes the time to search the place as thoroughly as he can. He looks for listening devices, bombs, cameras and other bits and pieces that could come and bite him on the ass later on. His training from Bruce and from the League of Assassins left him with instincts that could rarely be ignored.

Jason ignored those hard-taught instincts now. He was honestly too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to expend the energy to be bothered searching the room he had been given.

There were always cameras and listening devices in the guest suites of the Watchtower. Every single room and corridor of the Watchtower had cameras and listening devices; it was both a safety precaution and a warning system in case anything happens. Jason was not stupid enough to believe that there would not be anything or anyone watching him as they waited for Martian Manhunter to return.

Even if Martian Manhunter confirms that Jason has been nothing more than a puppet for the entire time of his second life and thus needs to be ‘rescued’, he knows that he would still be watched one way or another. Same goes if it does turn out that Jason is actually mostly in his right mind and that what he had done to Tim was just a supervillain being a dick to the Robins, both former and present.

So rather than searching the room and mapping out the locations of the cameras and listening devices, Jason walked over to the bathroom with the bag of clothes Harper brought for him.

The bathroom was spacious and simple. There was a shower, a sink, a toilet and an unbreakable mirror on the wall. There were towels on a rack by the shower and the tiles seemed to be actually heated. Which was nice. Space was fucking cold. From what he could remember from his time as Robin, the shampoo and soap were always kept under the sink, along with the tooth paste and floss. He opened the small cupboard doors and lo and behold, nothing has changed since he died.

Or maybe shit has changed. Maybe it has changed a lot and someone has just put everything into the place where Jason would likely remember it being.

He didn’t know what was possibly worse, the fact that after nearly four years the Watchtower has remained mostly the same or that the Justice League really did believe that Jason had been fully under the control of Ra’s this whole time and simply did not know it and were now treating him like a lost wounded puppy that needed help.

Jason didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think at all.

He ached. Deep in his bones he ached. He felt stretched and pulled, like he was the very last of the butter being spread over a broken piece of moulded toast. He wanted to rest. He needed to rest.

But before he could even think of taking a nap in that oversized bed that he does not deserve, Jason needed to clean off the blood and graveyard dirt from his body. He hazily grabbed the shampoo and soap, silently mourning the fact that the Justice League never keeps any razors on the Watchtower, due to safety concerns. Not that he thought that the JL would give him a razor even if they did have them on the Watchtower. It just would have been nice to get rid of the stubble that was starting to itch his cheeks.

He stripped out of the dirty pants and underwear and turned on the spray to hot, letting the water soak over his skin and wash away all that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. The water that drained into the sink was a muddy burgundy and the spray stung at his wounds. The bandages and shit that Harper had placed on him were thankfully water-proof. Jason would not like to have had to sit through the redressing of his wounds because he needed to get clean.

It is amazing what a little hot water, soap and shampoo can do to a person. Jason’s stressed muscles relaxed under the heat of the water, the tension that he had unknowingly been holding onto slowly slipped away. Cleaning his hair after nearly three weeks of being unable to properly wash it was a god send in itself. The grease, sweat and dirt were washed away, leaving Jason no longer feeling disgusted with how his hair felt on his head.

Having a chance to use to the soap though…

The soap did what the water could not. It cleaned away the blood, dirt and sweat and left nothing but skin and the faintest hint of rose in its wake. It felt like he was a new person and that everything in the past several weeks had just been a nightmare. With the dirt and blood gone, Jason could almost convince himself that he was in his safehouse after a bad night and that nothing horrible had happened. He just had a bad night.

Almost.

Nothing could ever really convince Jason that what he had done had not happened. That it was a nightmare or whatever shit excuse. Jason knew what he did. He may not remember all of it but he remembered enough and no amount of water or soap or wishful thinking will ever erase that from his mind.

He turned off the spray and stood there for a few moments, letting the water drip off his body and the steam rise off of his skin. His body was clean. Wounded, sore and barely conscious due to pure exhaustion but he was clean.

Jason stepped out of the shower and grabbed one of the towels, flinching slightly at how fluffy and soft it was against his skin. His skin was too raw from the heat of the shower to enjoy the feeling of it. The clothes that Harper had brought him were on the toilet where he had dumped them. As the older man said, there was pants, shirts, a pare of simple army grade boots and fresh underwear and socks. There was no belt and the boots were not steel capped but the pants did not need a belt and Jason did not think he was going to be kicking anyone anytime soon.

He dressed himself in a simple shirt and pants, silently enjoying the fact he had clean underwear and socks to wear. It was amazing how a simple hot shower and clean clothing can make one feel a lot better and more human. It was such an honestly simple thing, being clean and wearing clean items but you never know how much you take such a thing for granted until it is taken away from you and given back once more.

It reminded him vividly of the first week he spent in the Manor. Having clean and new clothes and the ability to shower at will had shocked him when he had first started living with Bruce. He had been terrified that he would have been punished for wasting so much water and ranking up the bill but Bruce had just shrugged at him and told him that the hot water wouldn’t run out. It had not been the most reassuring thing to do but it had help ease Jason a little at the time.

He left his dirty pants and underwear on the floor of the bathroom, not caring nor knowing of what to do with them. Someone will pick them up eventually and Jason was pretty sure that they would just burn them. Or try and use it as evidence. He honestly did not know or care at this point in time. He placed the boots at the end of the bed next to the left-over clothing and turned off the lights before stumbling his way back to the bed.

The mattress was firm but he sunk down into the bed anyway. The sheets were soft against the exposed skin of his arms and the pillow was gentle against his head. He had not rested on a bed this comfortable since his time at Wayne Manor.

For the past four years the beds that Jason has slept on have been mostly firm, unyielding things or just rolled out sleep mats. The League of Assassins was not big on simple comforts when training and living life as a crime lord honestly does not pay as well as one would think. The bed in his safehouse had been one he had found at a charity shop and felt more like he was sleeping on the springs then the mattress itself.

Jason couldn’t go back to that safehouse. Not after Ra’s and Bruce had been there. His mattress, while shitty and pain inducing, would more than likely be taken by squatters. Or by whoever takes his place. And all of his belongings will disappear as well. Taken as evidence against him or simply raided by those who are desperate. He owned nothing now. Not even the clothes on his back.

But this bed was all but sucking him into the mattress and the simple comfort of a good bed and hot shower was enough to pull him under into a light sleep, despite his darkening thoughts. He would wake as soon as Harper returned. His body was too well trained to not wake as soon as someone was nearby.

But until Harper arrives, Jason was going to take this chance to rest. He did not know when the next time he would be able to do so.

~

Harper returned to the room about five hours after he had left Jason, according to Jason’s internal body clock.

Harper’s hesitant knock on the door was enough to pull Jason out of his sleep, his whole-body filling with adrenaline as he quickly looked around the room, instinctively looking for any hostiles. He was exhausted still, but felt a lot better after his short sleep. Jason felt more mentally and physically aware of where he was and what he was doing than he had been in several weeks.

Five hours of sleep. It is amazing what five fucking hours could do right?

His body ached and burned as he moved but it felt more like background pain to him. It was a dull pull on his mind, reminding him that his body has gone through hell and needs to rest. Jason honestly doubted that he could fight well in his condition. He felt sluggish and weak. He wouldn’t win a fight against a D-List villain, let alone a Justice League member, the way he was now.

He reached down and slipped on the boots, gritting his teeth as the bend pushed against his ribs. Harper knocked again on the door, a little louder this time ‘round. Jason did not call out that he was awake or that he was coming to the door.

He needed a moment to gather himself before he did this. Martian Manhunter was either going to confirm that everything that Jason had gone through in the last four years was a lie and that he had been a puppet for a near immortal supervillain or he was going to say that Jason had not been controlled outside of what happened with Tim and that Jason needed to be locked away.

He was terrified, to put it mildly. Everything that he has done in his second life could have just been Ra’s playing around with him. Every action, every death he caused, lives he saved and blood he spilt could have all just been a game.

Jason could handle Arkham or wherever they end up sending him. He could handle whatever legal bullshit that gets thrown his way. Hell, Jason is pretty sure he could handle being placed in a cell next to the Joker if he had to.

But he wasn’t sure if he could handle knowing that all this time he had been under the control of Ra’s al Ghul.

He stood slowly and made his way over to the door. Every step was stiff and painful with his body protesting movement and his mind rebelling against the idea of opening the door and being forced to find out the truth. It took more time that he would have liked to admit to walk the whole five meters from the bed to the door but he did get there eventually.

He palmed the door open and looked blankly at Harper, who had his fist up like he was about to knock again.

“Oh good, you are up!” Harper lowered his hand almost sheepishly. “I didn’t know if you heard me knocking or not and I didn’t want to enter without your permission.”

There is one thing that Jason has always liked about Roy Harper, and that is that the older vigilante is smart enough not to barge into someone’s room when he knows that the said person isn’t likely to take kindly to him entering without permission.

“I heard you. Took a little while to do up the laces of the boots with my ribs.” Jason shrugged, his voice coming out more of a rasp than his normal deeper tone.

Harper nodded and didn’t say anything about Jason’s ribs or the way that his voice sounded. Instead, Harper gave him a tight smile and began to explain what was going on.

“So, MM got back about an hour ago. He has been briefed on everything. So, has John Constantine. You will be seeing MM first and then Constantine.” Harper gestured to the corridor and started to very slowly make his way down it. Jason followed, not speaking or reacting much to Harpers words. The slow pace that Harper set made it a lot easier for Jason to keep up with him and kept his wounds from aching too much from the moving.

“We are heading back to the room you were in before, I figured it would easier if we did everything there since the room is telepathically sealed and all that. No one is going to be able to listen in to the conversations that take place so you can have some privacy.” Harper gave another shrug. “Though honestly there isn’t much privacy with telepaths. They find out everything and it hurts when you fight them too.”

Jason was surprised that they were doing this all in ‘privacy’. Well, actually no he wasn’t. The JL are under the impression that there could be a chance that Jason has been under the control of Ra’s this whole time, if it turns out they are wrong then they will look kinda stupid.

And if it turns out they are right then Jason would no doubt have the privacy to have a complete and utter breakdown.

The Justice League was really going all out for Jason, weren’t they? Fancy room, basic human decency, hot shower and some privacy. Why were they bothering to do so now? He was a criminal, mind control or no mind control. It would be so much easier to have just kept Jason in the room they were going back to and have Martian Manhunter just search his mind for the truth without all of this fluffing about. Was Bruce behind all of this? Or was this the JL going behind Bruce’s back and doing all this because they all remembered the kid Jason used to be and felt guilty or some shit?

None of the Justice League members reached out to him when it was outed to the Community that he was alive again. Why were they acting all nice now? Was it because of Bruce? Or was there some other reason?

It hurt Jason’s head to think about all of this. None of it was really making sense and the sense of dread that had been sinking into his stomach since he had put on his boots was rising up in his chest, making him feel nauseous and light headed. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him once he got into that room with the alien man but he was terrified. His heart was racing in his chest and he could feel a panic attack just waiting to explode in the back of his throat.

Harper was mercifully quiet for the rest of the way to the room. He continued the slow and steady pace and kept himself only a step ahead of Jason. Once again, they did not meet anyone as they walked through the corridors to the room. Everything sounded muted and quiet. He knew that there were several Justice League members and Titans who could make themselves invisible to the naked eye who could be watching them as they passed but no one said anything or attacked him. Which left Jason feeling hyper aware of his surroundings but with nothing to show for it.

By the time they did end up at the room, Jason’s legs were trembling slightly and his body was exhausted. He was almost at his limits, just from that small walk. Perhaps he was more injured and worse off than he believed. Harper gave him a worried frown but said nothing, only palming the door open and gesturing for Jason to enter.

With more effort than he would have liked, Jason did slowly shuffle into the room.

J’onn J’onzz was sitting at the table, looking all green and alien. He could never understand why a shapeshifter would choose to look humanoid but he guessed that humans as a whole generally preferred humanoids than aliens.

“That is correct, Jason Todd.” Jason did not react to J’onzz responding to his thoughts. Jason has been around telepaths before. He knows how it goes.

“J’onn is going to look inside your head, Jason.” Harper explained as Jason sat down in the seat he had had been in just over five hours ago. The room was heavy with the scent of blood and sweat. His nose wrinkled slightly in annoyance. He had been out for five hours; couldn’t someone have sprayed some air freshener while he was gone? “He is going to search for any sign that your mind has been tampered with and that is all.”

J’onzz nodded. “I will not touch upon anything that you do not want for me to see.” There was both truth and lies in that statement. J’onzz was a telepath. He will see what there is to see in Jason’s mind, whether Jason wants him to or not. He understood that J’onzz was telling him that he would pull away from any memory that Jason does not want him to see. Jason jerked his head in understanding.

“I will be right here by the door, Jason. Whatever happens, I am here.” Harper stated, standing by the door. Jason clenched his jaw and gave a nod. It was meaningless, having Harper here. He wasn’t Jason’s friend and he wasn’t anyone important to Jason. But there was some comfort of knowing that he was not alone in this room with a telepath who was about to read his mind.

_“Having another person with you who is on your side is a comfort for many. A person does not have to be a friend to be willing to help you.”_ J’onzz said within Jason’s mind. He gave a glare at the slight invasion but didn’t say anything back. He just wanted to get this over with before he ends up breaking down in panic and fear.

“I will start now, Arsenal. This will take some time, please remain calm and quiet as I will need to concentrate.” J’onzz said out loud to Harper. Harper gave a solute and leaned his back against the wall, not relaxing but not on alert either.

_“I will take you into your inner mind, Jason Todd and from there I will look through your memories and see if what the Justice League suspects is true. I will also see the extent of the damage that Ra’s al Ghul has done to you recently.”_ J’onzz explained, giving Jason a few seconds warning before the room around them disappeared and they were in the small apartment that Jason used to live in with his mother, Catherine, before she OD’d and left him alone.

“A little warning would have been nice.” He growled, looking around the small living room in contempt. He hated this place, even when Catherine was alive, he hated it. It was a run-down shit hole that cost them more than it was worth and the memories associated with it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Apologies, I would have thought it would be best to get this over and done with quickly, least you did end up have a panic attack or breakdown, like you believed you would.” J’onzz bowed his head slightly at him before looking around the room. “Your mind chose this place for us to come to due to your current mental state. This place holds bad memories and ill feelings. You are currently faced with a great deal of emotional and physical turmoil and have old trauma that you have suffered through has never been addressed. This place reflects what you are feeling.”

Jason glared and crossed his arms over his chest defensively, realising belatedly that his body did not ache and that his wounds were healed in this place. Great, so his emotion turmoil and traumas have manifested in the one place that he would rather avoid seeing again. Isn’t that just wonderful? His mind is so fucked up that it turns to the one place that he hates more than anything in the world?

At the very least, his body doesn’t currently hurt and he can actually speak without feeling like he has swallowed glass.

“I understand that none of this is to be desired nor comfortable, but it is to be done.” There was an almost soft and understanding look on the alien’s face. “I will make my search as quick and painless as I can. May I have your arm please, Jason? It will make it much easier to focus and find what needs to be found.”

Jason clenched his jaw, he wanted nothing more than to keep his arm to himself and pull them away from this mindscape and the memories he does not want to examine. But this needs to be done. Both for his sanity and for his health in general. If Ra’s has been in control of him than he needs to find out so that it can be reversed ASAP.

So he held his arm out to the Martian and looked away as the alien placed his hand on Jason’s bicep.

“This may feel strange to you. I have been told that it feels like someone is gently rubbing a spoon down your back.” J’onzz stated, causing Jason to frown. Who the hell uses that kind of analogy- oh wait, yep. That feels like a spoon being rubbed down his back.

Talk about a weird and slightly uncomfortable feeling. At least it doesn’t hurt.

“Do you remember the first time you met Ra’s al Ghul after you were resurrected?” J’onzz asked, there were now small memories floating around them, filling the room. They were like fire flies, little tiny lights that showed flashes of memories as they passed. The memories themselves were too quick to see but he could smell the chili dogs from that memory that just passed and hear the faint explosion and his own childish laughter in another. It was strange, to say the least.

Everything about this was strange.

“I can’t really remember it.” Jason admitted. “I can’t remember much before the Pit. I think I spent more time unconscious than I did awake. I know that he was not supposed to be there though and that it pissed off Talia.” That much he could remember. Talia had stood in front of him, as if to shield him from her father. He could not recall what was said but he did know that when Ra’s had mentioned Bruce, Jason had begun to cry. He doesn’t remember anything after that.

J’onzz nodded. The alien closed his eyes and the fire fly memories scattered around them as J’onzz searched. The memory in question flew towards them and hovered for a few moments. Jason could faintly smell the rich earthy scents that he knows Talia enjoys and knew instinctively that this was the memory that they were discussing. He reached out to touch the fire fly memory on instinct, only hesitating to glance over at J’onzz to make sure that what he was doing was alright.

It wouldn’t do him any good to accidentally give himself brain damage because he touched some part of his brain that he wasn’t supposed to.

J’onzz gave an encouraging nod and Jason took that as more or less permission to touch the fire fly memory, which he did. And suddenly they weren’t in his shitty childhood apartment anymore. They were in Talia’s compound in the Mediterranean, the sound of the ocean could be heard from the large double open windows beside them and the earthy scent of Talia’s preferred incessance tickled his nose gently.

He remembered this room. This was the room Talia placed him in after she found him. There was a decent size bookshelf against one of the walls, filled with most of Jason’s favourites and the bed beside them was comfortable and soft. The medical equipment next to the bed looked new and state of the art and there was a sense of peace in the room.

It was a peace he had forgotten. He remembered this room. He remembered being safe in here. He remembered the endless doctors Talia brought in to help him get better and he remembered her brushing his fever damp hair out of his face while he cried weakly out for Bruce or Alfred or even Dick or Catherine to help him.

A young childish voice pulled him away from the overwhelming memories that came rolling over him like the waves outside of the windows and into the memory that they were in now.

“You have to eat more, Jason. Mother says that you have lost too much weight this week and you need to gain it back or you’ll end up being sicker.”

And he remembered Damian.

Damian, the son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Small, dark haired and green eyed with Talia’s tanned skin. Damian al Ghul Wayne was the perfect mix of his mother and father. He was only four or five here, if Jason was remembering correctly. Talia often left Damian with Jason while she went about doing whatever she actually did when not dealing with her father’s plans.

Damian had taken upon himself to nurse Jason back to health. He was determined to help the boy who he saw as his older brother and make Jason strong again so that they could train together. He was so small here, so proud and determined to help.

He would be around eight now, Jason realised. Eight and who only knows where, training with the League of Assassin’s to become an assassin himself. A shudder ran through Jason’s body at that thought. It was not an easy life, training with the League. He held a deep fear within his heart for Damian, because no matter who his mother was, the League did not go easy on anyone.

The smaller Damian from the memory was holding up a spoon of what looked to be soup or something similar. There was a small pout on his face as he tried and failed to get the younger Jason to eat.

Speaking of his younger self…

Jason never realised how fucked up he looked after he crawled out of his grave. The Pit healed his body and all of his childhood malnutritional problems and left him bigger and taller than he had ever been. Not as big as he was now, but a hell of a lot bigger than his old four foot nine and one hundred pounds soaking wet body from before.

He walked closer to the pair, getting a good look at himself. The younger him was pale, very pale. Jason was not a dark person nor was he overly tanned but he did have some colour to his complexion. The younger version of him looked like he had lost a lot of blood or something similar. His eyes looked sunken in and the bags under them were dark enough to make Jason wonder for a moment or two if they were from being punched out or not.

The long white medical dress did nothing to hide the autopsy scar on his chest, nor did it hide the IV in his arm. But the material looked soft and comfortable and the younger him did not look unhappy in it.

The younger him looked so young and broken. There was very little awareness in his eyes but he did look over at Damian with a lopsided smile. Damian held up the spoon but the younger Jason shook his head and reached out clumsily to pat Damian’s head.

Damian sighed dramatically and placed the spoon back in the bowl and placed it away on the small table beside them. He then got up and pushed himself into the younger Jason’s lap, hugging him close. The younger him wrapped his arms around Damian and continued to smile happily.

Before the Pit, Jason had clearly been broken. Talia had told him that his body and mind had been deteriorating and that he would not get better by himself, even with all the medical help that she could get him. Jason never really appreciated what that meant until he saw what she did.

The boy before him was all but brain dead. Or just mentally not there. He remembered Talia mentioning that he reacted more on muscle memory than he did with his own consciousness but fuck, seeing this for himself was just-

Jason had no words for it.

The younger version of himself before him was fucked. His body was failing and his mind wasn’t all there. But he was well cared for. The room around them was comfortable and clean, there was medical supplies on hand, a large bookshelf with endless books that Jason loved and adored and there was the fresh sea air coming from the open windows.

If Talia or Ra’s, who ever it was, had not put him in the Pit, Jason knew that he would have lived out the rest of his life in comfort and safety where ever they were. He would have been cared for and he knew instinctively that when the time had come, his passing would have been painless and quick.

Which begs the question; why did they put him into the Pit in the first place? And where did Damian go after Jason had been placed in the Pit?

Jason was pulled out of his thoughts as the memory around them continued to play out as the door to the room they were in opened and Talia with several of her men rushed in.

“Damian, my love, you need to go with Harrison and Brock now. It is no longer safe for you to be here. They will take you to your aunt Nyssa’s place in Japan. Do you remember it? I will meet you there as soon as I can, but you must leave now.” Talia spoke in a rush, lifting Damian out of the younger Jason’s arms; despite how the younger him reached out and whined.

“But Mother! I cannot leave Jason! He still needs help and care.” Damian looked so young and lost, his eyes were filling with tears and that made Jason’s throat closed a little. The boy was so young and still held most of his innocence here. God only knows what the boy will be like now.

“Hush now my child. I will keep Jason safe. But you must leave. My father is coming and he must not know about you.” She pressed a kiss to Damian’s forehead and handed him to one of the men. “Take him and go. Stop for no one and kill anyone who tries to take him. You know your orders.”

The two men nodded and were quick to leave out of the window. Jason had a feeling this was not the first time Damian needed to be spirited away because of Ra’s. From the way Damian reacted and the quick exit of Talia’s men, it may have been a regular occurrence.

Regular occurrence or not, the younger him was upset that Damian was gone. He was looking out the window like a kicked puppy while Talia rushed about the room, placing different items in their own little hiding spots. Seeing the normally well put together woman look fearful and rushed left him with a pit of dread in his stomach.

He knew things with Ra’s were bad and that the old assassin was becoming more and more unhinged as the years went on but he did not know that he caused this much fear within Talia. After Jason had gone into the Pit she had been a pillar of strength for him. Always calm and collected and there to help guide him when his mind became too much for him.

How much had she been hiding from him after the Pit? Why had she been hiding all of this once he had gotten his mind back? Was it maternal fear, like how it was with Catherine and Willis before Willis decided that he was going to beat Jason as well? Or something else? Maybe she had spoken to Jason about it but he did not remember?

He didn’t know but he knew he would try to find out later, once all of this was done.

Around him the memory continued.

“Jason, my love.” Talia gently took the young Jason’s face into her hands. “You will see him again. But you need to be calm and quiet now.” The young him didn’t seemed to fully understand Talia’s words but he did quiet down and nod. She pressed a kiss to his head and turned to face the door, one of her hands resting lightly at the sword on her hip, the other on the younger Jason’s shoulder.

Ra’s and his men came in through the door not a moment later.

There is one thing that Jason will give Ra’s, the old assassin knows how to make a fucking entrance.

The doors to the room were slammed open with more force than was actually necessary and Ra’s stood there, flanked by his men who all frankly looked like stereotypical assassins that you see in low budget Hollywood films about Ninja. The Demon’s head looked like a D-List Bollywood Dracula in his stupid ass green cloak, sword and half done up shirt.

When Jason said that Ra’s knew how to make an entrance, he did not mean that he knew how to make a good one. The whole thing was over dramatic, unnecessary and really? The only thing it did was startle the younger him who obviously did not like loud noises because the younger Jason hid his face into Talia’s side when the door was forced open.

The door wasn’t even locked. Why did they need to slam it open? What was the point of all of that?

“Father.” Talia’s cool voice was sharp as she held Jason close. “I was not expecting you.”

Ra’s smirked and honestly, Jason would be lying if he said that Ra’s did not look like one of those evil cartoon villains from a Disney film right now. “My dearest daughter.” Ra’s bowed his head. “You have been keeping secrets from me.”

Talia’s hand tightened on the younger Jason’s shoulder. “Yes, I have.” She said simply. “Jason has been in no shape to have anyone but myself and his doctors near him.”

“Do tell me, how is it that the boy is alive?” Ra’s asked, slowly entering the room. He was looking at the younger Jason with almost hungry eyes. Ra’s obsession with beating death was clearly the reason he was here.

“I believe it was a fluke of the Universe.” Jason flinched at Talia’s words. A fluke? Jason was expecting magic or something but a fluke? Is that what Talia really suspected or was that just what she was saying? “You know as well as I do, Jason Todd was murdered by that monster and that he was gone from this world. Six or so months after his death there was that… Shudder in the Universe. I believe that Jason was brought back to life with the Shudder.”

That was… that was honestly a plausible explanation as to how he came back to life and it was one he had not considered at all.

“It may have brought him back his life, but it has not brought back his health.” Ra’s commented, tilting his head slightly in fascination, his eyes greedily looking over the younger Jason’s body.

“It has not.” Talia agreed. “I have been nursing him back to health in peace, so that his recovery may go more smoothly.”

Ra’s gave a small hum, his gaze turning back to his daughter. “And you are saying that my palace is not a peaceful place?” There was a sharp edge to his words that sent a bolt of fear down Jason’s back.

“You have many enemies, Father. As does my Beloved. Jason would not be truly safe within the walls of your… compound.” Talia stroked the younger Jason’s shoulder in a soothing manner, the younger him was still clinging to Talia but he was watching Ra’s with confusion.

“And tell me, Daughter, how healed is the dear boy?” Ra’s began to move again, this time towards the bookcase. His men were still by the door, all armed and in defensive positions as if they were ready to attack at any moment. “There is very little… awareness within his eyes.”

Talia went quiet for a moment before speaking, her face loosing some of its cold sharpness. “There was a lot of damage done to him by that Clown. It is likely he will not… fully regain his full mental capabilities. But I will keep him safe and well and away from danger.” The last sentence was spoken with a fierce determination that only a parent could deliver.

Ra’s looked back over at Talia, his eyebrow raised. “Tell me, have you told your Beloved, his father, that the boy is alive? Or do you plan to keep the Detective in the dark?”

“What I do and don’t tell my Beloved is none of your concern. And nor is Jason Todd. He is mine to look after and you have no reason to be here Father.” Talia moved so that she was in front of the younger Jason, placing her body between him and Ra’s in a show of defiance.

“Ah, but don’t you think that Bruce Wayne would want to know that his beloved dead son is alive? Do you not think that he would tear apart the world to come and save him? The Detective may have a new little bird in training but you know as well as I do how obsessive that man is. He would stop at nothing to have his son safely back within his arms.” Ra’s taunted with a slight smirk on his face.

Jason flinched at those words, as did Talia. Bruce had loved the boy Jason used to be and Jason knew that before he had become the Red Hood, Bruce would have done anything to keep Jason safe and well.

That night with The Joker changed that. Bruce no longer saw Jason as his son. He saw Jason as a monster, a murderer who needs to be put away in Arkham.

The younger Jason started to cry and this, this Jason really remembered. He remembered the overwhelming feeling of something being wrong and that his head was so clouded and muddled that he could not tell what that something was. He remembered hearing Bruce’s name and knowing that Bruce was not there with him. That he was alone without the man who was his father, somewhere in the world that was not his home in Gotham City.

“Look how cruel you are being, my dearest child.” Ra’s gestured to the younger Jason who was quietly sobbing, his arms wrapped around himself as he rocked back and forth. “The boy is clearly a lost cause. Send him back to the Detective. He is not going to heal more than he is now. Let him live out his life comfortably with his father and come back to my palace and work with me once more. This independent urge you have to make your way in the world is tiresome. Come back with me.”

Talia stood her ground, chin raised and shoulders back in clear defiance of her father. “How I live my life is none of your concern, Father. I will care for Jason how I choose. You have over stayed your welcome here.”

Ra’s narrowed his eyes before giving a small laugh. “You will change your mind, sooner or later my dearest Daughter.” And with that Ra’s swept out of the room, his exit just as dramatic as his entrance.

Several minutes after Ra’s had left the room, Talia rushed to the younger Jason’s side and pulled him close to her chest.

“Hush now. Hush my little one. You are safe now. You are safe with me.” There were tears in her eyes as she rocked the younger Jason back and forth. “You are safe.”

The memory around him dissolved slowly, the fresh smell of the sea was the first to go, then the colours of the walls and soon the faint sobbing that came from the younger Jason and Talia’s soft reassurances faded from them; and between one blink of the eyes to the next he was transported back to his childhood apartment.

“You were not well, before you were placed in the Lazarus Pit.” J’onzz commented from beside him, making Jason jump. He had forgotten all about the alien. He had gotten lost within the memory and had forgotten that he was not here alone.

“You saw how I was.” Jason said after a few moments, looking away from J’onzz. He stared at the cracked wall next to him with a frown. “I wasn’t going to recover more than that, I don’t think.”

J’onzz was quiet for a minute before speaking once more. “Who was that boy? The young one who was nursing you to health. He looks very much like Batman; though Bruce Wayne has no biological children.”

Jason glared at the green alien, a sudden protective urge welling up from within him. He didn’t remember Damian well, hell he had forgotten the boy even existed until now but he would be damned if he lets anyone get their hands on him. Whether it be Ra’s or Bruce and the Justice League, that boy is not going to any of them.

“Not a word about him.” Jason growled. “Not a single fucking word, you hear me? That boy has gotta stay safe and away from everyone. You ain’t saying nothing to no one. Not Bruce or the other JL members. This stays between you and me.”

His threats and words mean nothing, especially to a man who could render him brain dead with half a thought. But damn it all, Talia had feared for that boy. She was keeping him away from her father and Bruce and keeping him as safe as she could. He wasn’t going to compromise that safety. Not after everything Talia has done for him.

J’onzz looked down at him, his face twisted in a frown for a few moments before he nodded. “Very well. I will keep quiet about this for now. But the truth will be revealed one way or another in the future. Whether you wish it to be or not.”

Jason said nothing to that, looking away with frustration. One way or another Bruce will find out the truth about Damian. He just hoped that whatever bullshit fall out that came with that did not hurt the kid too much.

Around them, the fire fly memories were returning. In small groups of three and four they clustered around the two of them. Faint scents tickled his nose as the memories passed his face and muffled sounds reached his ears, always too far and soft for him to hear clearly. It was both disorienting and comforting. These were his memories. They were what made him the man he was today. Every action, every thought and motivation that drove him came from his memories. This was him. This was Jason Todd, the boy who died and came back to life.

Everything he ever was and will be streams from these memories before him.

He prayed to whatever god that was listening that the actions he made were his own and not just orders from Ra’s. Because if his actions were not his own. If his thoughts and motivations were all just the whims of Ra’s al Ghul on a power trip; then he did not know who Jason Todd really was.

“Do you remember the first time you saw Ra’s after you had been placed within the Lazarus Pit?” J’onzz asked, staring down at Jason with a sympathetic look on his face that reminded him that the alien was a fucking telepath and of course he heard Jason’s thoughts and now pitied him.

Jason looked away from the look on J’onzz face and answered. “I don’t remember the first couple of weeks after the Pit.” The fire fly memories around them fluttered but none of them came forward like the other one did. “There was just rage. And fear. I didn’t know who I was or where I was for that matter. One day I woke up and I was just…” He waved his hand looking for the right word. “Me again, I guess.”

J’onzz hummed. “Can you focus on those memories? Try and bring them forward.”

Jason glanced at the green man, not really wanting to bring those memories forward at all. The feelings associated with them were unpleasant and unkind. He was not overly fond of the idea of seeing them again.

But he needed to know if Ra’s had been controlling him or not and these memories might hold the smoking gun to tell them if it was true or not.

Closing his eyes, Jason focused on the faint feelings that he could remember from those couple of weeks after he had gotten out of the Pit. The fire fly memories scattered around them, fluttering out of the way as Jason searched for the memories.

The memories did not fly as smoothly as the one from before. In fact, they did not fly like the fire flies that held the rest of Jason’s memories. These memories were sluggish and slow, weighed down by poisonous green liquid that dripped down off their small bodies and stained the dirty floor below them. He could feel them, the memories. They were twisted and broken and he did not want to be near them.

“I don’t think we should look in those.” He spoke faintly, looking at the memories in horror.

J’onzz was quiet for a moment before speaking. “I agree.” And with a wave of his hand the memories disappeared. Jason blinked in shock. The memories weren’t destroyed, he could tell that much, but they were not before them anymore.

“Where did they go?” He couldn’t help but ask. He really hoped that J’onzz did not burry them somewhere. Repressing memories was not a good thing and Jason did not want to have to deal with those memories coming to bite him on the ass later on.

“I sent them back to where they originally were. They have not been repressed any more than what you have done so in the past.” Oh, well that is nice to know.

“Since those memories are… unstable, do you remember the first time you saw Ra’s again, once the Lazarus Pit’s influence had faded?” J’onzz asked. Jason frowned and thought back. After the Pit Madness had gone down, he had been thrown straight into training to get his body back in order. He had grown several inches and needed to relearn himself after the Pit.

Ra’s… Ra’s had not been there. At least not in person. Talia had kept him mostly away but he did remember vaguely seeing Ra’s in the corridors and on the balconies of the training halls he had been in. He said as much to J’onzz.

“You were never alone with him nor in his company?” J’onzz looked puzzled and Jason shrugged.

“I think Talia ran interference between Ra’s and me. He was there but I never spoke to him. He seemed more interested in watching me fight than he did with speaking to me.” Jason admitted, watching the fire fly memories return to fly around them once more now that the Pit laced memories were gone.

“Ra’s did not seem that interested in me, after the Pit. I think at one point he called me a plague that Talia released on the Earth.” Jason watched one of the memories fly up towards the exposed light bulb above them with a frown. “I think that once he realised that he could not get any secrets of coming back to life from my resurrection, he lost interest in me. I don’t know why he decided to make me attack Tim though.”

J’onzz hummed and looked at the memories flying around them. “You are telling the truth. Your memories show no interaction between you and Ra’s after your experience with the Lazarus Pit, repressed or otherwise. Except for here.” J’onzz pointed out one of the fire flies, this one was wounded and bleeding, much like how the Pit laced memories had been. Though unlike the Pit laced memories, the liquid was red like blood and not green like the Pit.

Jason shuddered looking at it. That was the memory of Ra’s two nights ago. When he did something to Jason’s mind that led him to attack Tim.

“Yeah. That’s the one.” The memory sluggishly made its way over to them, like a wounded animal dragging itself across the floor. Or in the air in this case. The memory stopped before them, like the first one had. Jason could smell the streets of Gotham coming from the memory and hear the faintest sound of cars and sirens. He did not want to look at this memory. He didn’t want to see what happened to him that night or why.

He was scared. He was scared of what he would see. He didn’t know if this memory would reveal if he had been fully under Ra’s this whole time or if this was all just a one-off sick game of a Supervillain but he knew he had to see it.

For not only his own sake but for Tim’s too. He had attacked his friend and had damn near killed him. He owed it to Tim to find out why he had done those things and he knew that he would never let himself rest until he knew the truth of whether or not Ra’s had really been controlling him this whole time or if the Justice League were just a bunch of conspiracy theorists who got shit wrong.

With a trembling hand, Jason reached up and touched the memory. He needed to find out the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am leaving you on a cliffhanger. Because I am evil. (and because this chapter is already 8655 words and omg that is long enough)
> 
> Sorry for the wait, things have been busy as hell in RL right now. I do not know when the next update will be but I will try and get another one out by the end of September if I can.
> 
> Please leave a comment or Kudos if you have been enjoying the fic. Both motivate me and let me know that you are enjoying the story. Thank you guys so much for reading, commenting and leaving kudos.
> 
> Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More answers are given and more questions will be asked

Like with the memory of Talia’s compound, Jason and J’onzz were pulled away from Jason’s childhood apartment and thrown into the living area of his most recent safehouse in a blink of an eye. Unlike with the memory that they had entered before, there was an overwhelming sense of pain and fear in the air. The hairs on the back of Jason’s neck raised at the feeling. Something was not right with this memory. Or perhaps whatever the hell Ra’s had done to him had left more of a psychological mark than he had thought.

The Jason in the memory was sitting down on the broken and stained couch, looking only slightly better than what Jason did out in the real world. His shirt was off and the bruises were only just starting to darken on his skin. The bags around the other Jason’s eyes showed how exhausting the last few weeks had been. He was covered in sweat and blood and Jason was honestly surprised he had lasted as long as he had, given the way he looked right now.

The other Jason let out a low, painful whine as he began the slow process of getting up to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. Every step the other Jason took looked like agony and Jason’s own body shuddered with the memory of that pain.

There was only so much adrenaline and pain killers could do before one’s body starts to rebel against you.

He knows only vaguely what happens next. Ra’s’ assassins will kick down his door and over power the other Jason with almost laughable ease. Then Ra’s will make his way into the room and make some speech about Jason wasting Talia’s gift and some other bullshit. After that, Jason honestly cannot remember what happened next. Whether it was from the trauma of the being mind controlled or having some kind of conditioning woken up from him, he did not know. All Jason knew was that there was a gap as to what happened and he was terrified as to what he was about to find out.

They watched together, Jason and J’onzz, as four assassins kicked open the front door with more zealous then honestly needed. They were dressed in the League’s stereotypical and somewhat insulting ninja outfits that honestly looked like crappy D-List movie costumes and all four of them were easily able to get the jump on his wounded past self. The weak ass fight lasted a minute and a half before his past self was overwhelmed.

Jason flinched quietly as he watched his other self take several hits to the chest that he knew had cracked a few of his ribs. It was one thing to live through the painful experience himself but it was definitely just as bad to watch it happen from the outside. Other Jason was forced to his knees with his head pushed down in a mock bow as Ra’s finally made himself known.

The Demon’s Head walked through the battered door as if he was walking through some fancy ass castle. Jason could not help but wonder if Ra’s had just stood there by the door waiting to make an entrance or if he had made his assassins go ahead of him so that he did not have to wait as long.

Honestly, both options were possible, seeing how much of a diva Ra’s seemed to be.

Ra’s strolled over to the other Jason, taking his time to look around the room and wrinkle his nose at how everything was falling apart, second hand and more than likely smelt like sweat and blood. And you know, wasn’t some fancy ass shit from an exotic place that wasn’t in the bad part of Gotham City.

The other Jason bared his teeth at Ra’s, his eyes flashing a surprising green for a few moments. He had heard from Tim that his eyes still did that, but seeing it for himself was strange. The green had looked unnaturally bright and made his expression look wild and unhinged.

It was a side effect of the Lazarus Pit, according to Talia. It disappears after a few years. Nothing to worry about, she said. Still…

Was that the face Tim saw when Jason beat the living shit out of him? God, that must have been terrifying for the kid. Those few brief moments were horrifying for him and that was Jason’s own face he was looking at!

Or maybe because it was his own face looking like that was why it was so terrifying. Maybe if he gets lucky, Jason would be able to talk about this shit with a trained therapist. Because he really needed to go and see one after all of this was through.

Ra’s stood before the other Jason (Jason honestly needed another name to call his other self but he could not for the life of him figure out what else to call him other than ‘the other Jason’), looking down at him like he was an unpleasant piece of garbage on the ground before he spoke.

“I was surprised when my men told him that you had failed in your attempt to kill the Joker.” Ra’s started, voice cool and smooth. “You were very determined to finish off that monster and yet you failed. You did not complete your goal, the one you worked so very hard to obtain. Why?”

The other Jason snorted loudly before spitting a large blob of blood and snot down at Ra’s’ shoes. “Go to hell Ra’s, I don’t answer to you.”

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t past Jason’s smartest move but damn was it amusing to watch Ra’s face twist in disgust when he realised that the blood and snot was now on his fancy ass shoes that probably cost a couple of grand.

What wasn’t amusing to watch was the assassin’s hitting against several of the other Jason’s wounds in retaliation. The pained wheezing that came from the other Jason’s chest made Jason flinch. Yeah, that had hurt. Still worth it though.

“You, Jason Todd, are a disgrace. You have wasted the gift my daughter has given you. She took you in when you had nothing. When you were nothing. She gave you back your mind and health and has trained you. Yet you could not even achieve one simple goal.” Ra’s shook his head, his expression reminded Jason acutely of Alfred’s after Jason had gotten into a fight with another student at school.

It was almost disgusting to watch Ra’s try and pull the disappointed grandfather persona off. Maybe if Ra’s had actually put an effort into Jason’s training and helping Jason out when he had first gotten out of the Pit, things would have been different. Jason has a long history of wanting to please and the attention of parental figures, this whole tactic that Ra’s was trying to pull off would have been pretty effective, if Ra’s had bothered to lay down the groundworks of actually being a grandfather figure.

Which he hadn’t.

So, this whole ‘I am disappointed in you and you are a disgrace’ thing? Didn’t work and was mildly disturbing to watch. And the other Jason was not afraid to say so.

“Get fucked Ra’s. I told you I don’t answer to you. I don’t owe you shit. Talia has nothing to do with any of this. My fuck up was my own.” He bared his teeth up at Ra’s. “What the hell are you actually doing here, Ra’s? You didn’t come all the way to Gotham and risk getting your ass kicked by Bruce just to tell me I fucked up.”

That was a very good question. Kudos to the other Jason for asking it.

Ra’s would have had to have known that Bruce would have known almost right off the bat (no pun intended) that the League of Assassin’s and its leader were in the city. The Demon’s Head would be on a very short time limit to do what he wanted and or needed before Bruce ultimately came to crash the party.

What had been Ra’s’ plan?

Jason watched on as Ra’s sighed and shook his head. He stapled his fingers together and looked comically like an evil villain from a kid’s show who was about to reveal his plans to the young hero for no real reason that makes sense to anyone else but themselves. Which was kinda of a good analogy given everything that was happening before them.

“I had hoped that you would complete your task and kill that monster. By doing so you would have freed not only yourself, but the Detective; as well from the past that haunts you. The death of that Clown would have brought a new age into the world and would have made my plans easier.” Ra’s was saying as he slowly walked towards the other Jason, who instinctively leaned back and as far back as he could the closer Ra’s became.

“Well jeez, if you want the Joker dead so much than you should do it yourself. I don’t fucking care who kills him anymore, I just want to see him dead and not hurt anyone else.” The other Jason was frowning up at Ra’s in confusion. This is where the memories that Jason had get really fuzzy. Something happens to him during this conversation. Or perhaps after it. And Jason is going to find out what that something is whether he wants to or not.

“The death of the Joker by your hand was supposed to be a tipping point, dear child. For you, your brothers and your father. It was supposed to help…push the right situations into play. But unfortunately, your inability to kill your own murderer has complicated things.” Ra’s monologued, not making much sense at all. Why would Jason killing the Joker change anything? What the hell was Ra’s going on about?

“The hell is that supposed to mean, Ra’s? What are you going on about? My killing or not killing the Joker has nothing to do with you!” The other Jason was struggling weakly against the hold that the assassins had him in. It probably dawned on the other Jason, just like it was on him now, that Ra’s was not making any sense and was likely having one of the ‘Pit Spells’ that Talia mentioned to him when he had been training with her.

Ra’s was old, ancient even. The Lazarus Pit was not meant for long term use. Ra’s had, over the last century or so, become slightly unhinged and the more frequently he uses the Pit, the worse he become. He became manic and obsessive and he implements plans that make no sense in long term or even short term. Talia calls them ‘Pit Spells’, since they happen more often after Ra’s has taken a dip in the waters.

Ra’s shook his head and gave a look down at Jason that was horrifyingly fond. He had seen little old ladies give the same look to babies and dogs on the street. 

“It does not matter anymore. Your failure is nothing but a small blip that can be ignored. I will go ahead with my plans, though I will have to go through a different manner to do so.” Ra’s smiled sharply at the other Jason. “Which is where you come in. You may have failed in your attempt to kill your murderer but I assure you Jason, you will complete the task I set out for you.”

“I am not doing jack fucking shit for you!” The other Jason shouted, jerking violently against the hands that held him. Fear was pricking inside of Jason’s chest as he watched his other self struggle uselessly against the assassins.

J’onzz placed, what Jason assumed to be, a calming hand on his shoulder; silently reminding him that the alien was still there with him, watching as the scene unfolded around them. There was some comfort, knowing that he was not alone in seeing this. But mostly there was shame and anger that this was happening, or should he say, has already happened and there was nothing Jason could do to change it. He could only watch helplessly as the memory unfolds and know that this is what happened to him.

Ra’s casually backhanded the other Jason, silencing him for a moment. “Watch your tongue boy.” Ra’s glared, voice sharp and harsh. “I can still kill you and continue my plans without you.”

The other Jason seem to be biting back his words as he glared up at Ra’s. The threat of death really has no hold over Jason anymore, seeing as he has already been murdered before in a horrifying way, but Jason knows when to hold his tongue and wait something out. The other Jason seemed to be waiting to see what Ra’s’ plan was before he acted.

Which is normally a good idea. Wait as the villain monologues their plan, find out all the details you can, fight your way out and escape, make your own plan to stop the villain’s plan, implement said plan and then go home as the hero of the day.

But Jason knows that that doesn’t happen here. There is no proper escape or saving the day. Ra’s’ plan worked and both Jason and Tim were lucky to even be alive and safely away in the Watchtower.

“Tell me Jason, do you know much about the power of the Lazarus waters?” Ra’s spoke calmly, his voice taking on a more soothing tone. Talk about emotional whiplash.

The other Jason shook his head and said nothing, his eyes were darting around the room, taking note of all the weapons that were hidden away and the exits. He was planning his escape.

“No? What a shame.” Ra’s knelt down and grasped the other Jason’s chin in a firm hold, not hard enough to bruise him but enough to keep him still. “Then again, I have kept the secrets of its waters hidden for good reason. Did you know, my dear child, that with the right spell, you can manipulate the Lazarus water within a person and control their actions and mind? It can take up to a decade before your body finally releases the Lazarus water it retains. It may have been a few years since my dearest daughter placed you into the water without my permission but there is still enough in you for my plan to be complete.”

The other Jason’s eyes widened with fear as he struggled against both Ra’s and his men. “Let me go! Don’t fucking touch me! I am not doing anything you say or want, Ra’s.” He managed to grunt out. He did not know anything about the Lazarus waters being possibly used for manipulation. Jason did not think anyone did.

This kind of information was game changing.

“Hush now, child.” Ra’s yanked the other Jason’s head still once more. “You will be apart of a bigger picture that you cannot yet understand. You will do as I say, Jason Peter Todd. The Lazarus water in your veins will ensure it.”

Ra’s looked more unhinged then the Joker did on a good day. His eyes were Lazarus bright and his skin looked stretched over his bones, now that Jason looked closely. Ra’s did not look well. He did not look sane. No wonder Talia looked slightly fearful when she spoke about the ‘Pit Spells’ her father went through on occasion.

This was just horrifying.

“You, my dear child, will be the instrument used to lure in your family to my care. You will help me dip each of your brothers into the Lazarus pit and together, all of your will help me bring your father to my side. He will be my heir and you will all be my honoured grandchildren. You will replace that little brat Talia hid from me and you will all take your place by my side.” Ra’s monologued as his grip on the other Jason’s cheeks grew stronger.

Jason honestly was surprised that there wasn’t finger marks on his chin, giving how tightly Ra’s was holding him in the memory. Then again, there were multiple bruises against his cheeks and necks, the bruises could have all just blended in. At this point in time, everything was just a burst of purple and blue against his skin. Maybe he will look later on when he gets back to that guest room again.

Or maybe not. There were some things that did not need to be answered.

Ra’s, it seemed, was not done with the whole ‘I am an actual evil villain and I am giving you a speech about what I plan to do because you cannot leave and I need to boast’ thing. Jesus, hasn’t he ever read the Evil Overlord List before?

“Prepare the ritual.” Ra’s barked at his men before looking back at Jason, face once again all grandfatherly and fond. Yuck, talk about creepy. “You will defeat your brothers and bring their broken bodies to me Jason and you will do so willingly. They will see you for who you are. They will see the true you. You are to be my Demon’s Hound, Jason Peter Todd. My loyal hound who does not know his orders until the moment is right, and then you will strike.”

Two of the men who had been holding Jason had left to go grab whatever the hell was needed for the ritual thing. The other two ninja knock offs were able to hold the other Jason just fine. There were several large duffle bags of items brought into the room and even from where they were standing, Jason could not tell what was in them.

“You will not remember or know your orders until the time is right.” Ra’s suddenly hissed into the other Jason’s face. “You will believe that you are in control of yourself but I will be the one governing your actions. You will be my loyal hound and your first target shall be Timothy, seeing as you have already made friends with the dear boy.” Ra’s stood suddenly and took a step back from the other Jason, his face no longer grandfatherly. It was cold and indifferent.

“Knock him out. I do not want him to try and interfere with this.” Ra’s said calmly, looking down at the other Jason with a sneer. “My plans will be perfect. He will not ruin them with his disobedience.”

There was struggle on the ground with the other Jason giving one last desperate fight to break free but the sudden blow to his temple from one of Ra’s men was enough to knock him out.

And in doing so, abruptly ending the memory and sending them right back to Jason’s childhood apartment.

They were no longer in Jason’s safehouse, looking around one can definitely see that. The walls were all different, there were firefly memories up by the roof, floating about and the furniture was all different shapes and sizes. But the smell of the apartment was very much the same as it was in Jason’s safehouse. The stench of Crime Alley flowed through the window and stained the air and it held the same scent as it always does.

It was jarring. Jason needed to take a few moments to come back to his senses and pull his mind away from what he had just seen. He gathered his breath and calmed himself down.

And promptly collapsed to his knees and vomited.

There was nothing in his stomach. Why would there be anything in there at all? This was his head, he didn’t need food or water here and let’s be honest, the only thing he has eaten in the real world was those bars that Harper had given him. There was barely anything but bile in him to really be thrown back up.

But that did not stop him from being sick all over the ground and the shaking sobs that came from his chest. He had his answers. He had them in spades.

Ra’s had only been controlling him for less than seventy-two hours. Everything that he had been doing before than was done of his own free will.

This is good news. Great news even. Jason Todd was his own person who had gotten fucked over by a supervillain who was currently insane. When the Justice League hears this, they will be mildly disappointed (and possibly embarrassed) but they will let him heal (more than likely, he hopes they will anyway) and then send him off to Arkham, where he can eventually escape and hide away.

And then the cycle will start up again. Jason will commit crimes, gain back his territory, look after his people and fight the Bat. He may get caught, he may not.

It will be an endless cycle but it will be one done on choices that Jason makes out of free will and not the conditioned/mind-controlled orders of a mad man.

This was good news.

So why couldn’t Jason stop crying and shaking?

“Todd.” J’onzz placed a gentle hand on the back of Jason’s neck. “Breathe. Slowly. You are experiencing a panic attack. You must calm down. It is dangerous to be in such a state while in your mindscape.” There was a soft kindness in his words. The alien wasn’t telling Jason off for panicking, nor was he annoyed. He was trying to keep them safe from Jason’s own mind.

So, Jason tried to calm himself down. He tried to slow his breathing. He counted in prime numbers up to one hundred. He did every damned technique Talia and Alfred had taught him over the past several years but nothing worked. It was all just too much and he needed to get out of here.

He needed to get away from his childhood home and all of the horrible memories of abuse and loneliness that it brought. He needed to get away from those firefly memories that were buzzing around their heads. Jason just needed to get out and hide himself away because he just did not know how to deal with all of this and it was just…

Too much.

Thankfully, the telepathic alien man seemed to understand this because in a blink of an eye, Jason went from kneeling on the ground of his childhood apartment, shaking and sobbing in low horrible breaths that barely felt like they were drawing in enough air, to sitting on the chair in that interrogation room with his wounds burning lowly in the background.

The room around them still smelt like stale sweat and blood and there was no air conditioning in the room so the air was stuffy and difficult to breathe.

Or maybe it was difficult to breathe because Jason was still panicking. His ribs screamed at the sobs that came from his chest and everything hurt as he wrapped his arms around himself and shook.

What was wrong with him? Was this shock? Left over psychic trauma from going into his own mind? Or was this his psyche finally snapping after all the stress and abuse it had taken over the years?

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. All that mattered was that he could not get enough air and he was shaking. The only thing that was on his mind was getting out, getting away somewhere quiet and alone and safe where he won’t be hurt or seen.

He was dimly aware of Harper being there next to him, trying to get him to calm his breathing and just, you know, trying to help. Jason didn’t know where J’nozz had gone and he didn’t really care. Nothing mattered. He needed to get somewhere safe. He needed to get away. He needed…

He needed to go home.

But Jason Todd has no home to go to anymore. The safe house he had been using had been tainted by what Ra’s had done to him and had no doubt been trashed by Bruce. The Manor was no longer his home. That shitty apartment from his childhood was more of a nightmare than a home and the places he stayed with Talia were always temporary.

He had no home. No where to go to. There was no safe haven for him. And there probably never will be. The Justice League would send him to Arkham and he will be trapped next to his murderer and have to go through a whole new kind of hell and Jason could not stand that idea.

He didn’t want to go to Arkham. He didn’t want to be near the Joker and his ilk. He wanted to be up on the rooftops of Gotham, eating a pizza with Tim, talking about stupid things with one another. He wanted to be free and well and not in pain.

He just wanted it all to stop.

And eventually it did. His breathing slowed into hiccup like sobs, the tears that itched his eyes trickled into nothing and the shaking became nothing more than a couple of shudders here and there.

He looked up at Harper, feeling weak and shit. The older man gave a small quirk of his lips and passed him a water bottle, which Jason took without a word but with a grateful nod. He drank half the bottle down and said nothing still. There was nothing to say.

Well, that wasn’t true. There was a lot to say. He could write a whole book series on what there was to say about what had happened and what would probably happen now but;

Jason just did not have the will to say the words out loud. He didn’t want to speak. He didn’t want to hear the tear thick strain of his voice. He didn’t want to explain anything. He just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up for a while.

He doesn’t want to die or anything, Jason just wants to sleep and forget for a little while. He wants to not have to deal with all of this for a few hours while he falls into a dark oblivion of nothingness. No dreams. No nightmares. Just sweet and calm rest.

Harper sat down on the table, looking down at him. His eyes were soft and there was a look of pure understanding on his face.

“MM has gone to explain what the two of you saw.” His voice was low and slightly quieter than normal. Which was nice because there was a low pulsing pain behind Jason’s eyes. Dehydration more than likely. Or stress. “I’m going to take you back to your room and you can sleep for as long as you need. When you wake up, you can eat and rest some more. The JL will hold a meeting as to what happens next when you are healed up.”

Jason gave a small meek nod at Harper’s words. That was really the best he could expect. It was more or less what he needed and he was very quietly grateful that they were giving him that. They could be dragging his weak ass body up to the meeting room and giving him his sentence there and then.

But they were letting him rest. They were going to let him eat and heal. Jason didn’t know who was pulling the strings for this to happen but he was not looking a gifted horse in the mouth, that was for sure.

He let himself be pulled up carefully by Harper, his arm going around the slightly smaller man’s broad shoulders. Jason’s legs were like jelly and his body just ached as it moved, but with Harper there holding him up for most of the way, they managed to get Jason back to the guest room that was his prison cell while he was here on the Watchtower.

Harper was gentle when he placed Jason on the bed. It took effort, but Jason managed to toe off the boots and curl himself into a position that did not hurt. Harper was quiet when he left the room, turning off the light and palming the door shut behind him.

Leaving Jason alone in darkness with his new found knowledge and the mental and physical exhaustion that came with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the four month ish wait. I know I said 'Hey I'll update by the end of the month' kind of thing but then the christmas rush snuck up on my store and I was doing extra hours and my laptop threw a fit at me for no reason and urgh real life has just been busy as fuck.
> 
> But I am back. And I hoping to try and get back into writing a little more often. I cannot say when the next update will be, but none of the stories are abandoned and I am still excited to write all of them!
> 
> Thank you all for your comments and Kudos! They always make my day. Please continue to leave either or both if you have enjoyed the story.

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly do not know when the next chapter is going to be out. Things in RL are hectic and I will do my best to have something out in a month or so if I can.  
> That being said, this fic is going to be continued and finished. It will just take some time to do so.
> 
> This fic will have a happy ending, you will all just have to wade through a lot of angst to get there first.
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you have enjoyed the series. I love hearing from all of you and comments and kudos do motivate me to keep writing.


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